Chapter 18 Where is my mate?
Ronan cast one last glance at Elara.
She hadn’t moved. Her lashes rested against her cheeks, silver hair fanned across the pillow exactly as it had been for months. His chest tightened anyway, like it always did—like it might collapse if he didn’t see her breathing.
“I’ll be right back,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.
He lowered his head and pressed a careful kiss to her hand, lingering for half a second longer than necessary, then forced himself to stand. Every step toward the bathroom felt wrong, like he was walking away from something fragile enough to shatter the moment his back turned.
The bathroom door closed behind him.
Arwen remained.
She stood beside the bed in silence, hands folded before her, eyes resting on Elara’s face. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then she exhaled slowly and leaned closer.
“You’ve slept long enough, child,” she whispered. “It’s time to come back.”
Elara did not respond.
Arwen straightened, smoothing her gown, and turned toward the chamber doors with her attending maids in tow. The elite guards stationed outside snapped to attention immediately.
“No one enters,” Arwen said coolly. “No servants. No council members. No curious fools. Only the king or myself.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” they replied in unison, bows crisp and immediate.
Satisfied, Arwen swept past them and into the corridor.
She had barely gone ten steps when Matthew appeared at her side, his expression tight, eyes sharp with unease.
“Your Highness,” he said quietly, keeping his voice low despite the empty hall. “The Nosferu and the rogues have gone completely silent. Ever since Kael’s execution.”
Arwen didn’t stop walking. “I know.”
Matthew frowned. “That’s not normal. It's been seven months and still no movement.”
“No,” she agreed. “It’s expected.”
They crossed into the open garden, the morning air cool against Matthew’s skin. Maids followed a few paces behind, lifting the hem of Arwen’s gown as they moved.
“Their target was never Kael,” Arwen said calmly. “He was insignificant.”
Matthew glanced at her sharply. “Then why take him at all?”
“Because he was there,” she replied. “And because he failed.”
Matthew slowed. “Failed at what?”
Arwen stopped beside the fountain and turned to face him fully. “His assignment.”
Matthew frowned. “Shadow-guarding Elara?”
“Yes,” Arwen said. “And failing.”
Matthew let out a slow breath. “You think they punished him for that?”
“No,” Arwen replied. “Punishment implies emotion. The Nosferu don’t waste time on that.”
He looked at her sharply. “Then why take him?”
“Because he was useful,” she said simply. “For a moment.”
Matthew’s jaw tightened. “Useful how?”
Arwen’s gaze drifted toward the palace before returning to him. “Kael was exposed. He was close enough to Elara to carry traces of her scent.”
Matthew went still. “You’re saying they didn’t take him for information.”
“They took him for comparison,” Arwen said. “A baseline.”
Matthew shook his head slowly. “But Elara escaped. She killed the vampire.”
“Yes,” Arwen agreed. “After she was bitten.”
His breath caught.
“That bite,” Arwen continued, voice calm but edged with steel, “wasn’t meant to claim her. Or kill her. It was controlled. Measured.”
“A probe,” Matthew murmured.
“A test,” Arwen corrected. “To see what would happen to someone like her when exposed.”
Matthew’s hands curled into fists. “So Kael—”
“Was the follow-up,” Arwen finished. “They took him to observe secondary effects. What lingered on those close to her. Whether proximity altered resistance. Whether her presence changed outcomes.”
Matthew stared at the water in the fountain, face pale. “He was never meant to survive.”
“No,” Arwen said quietly. “He was meant to confirm their theory.”
“And once he did…”
“He became unnecessary.”
Silence settled between them.
Matthew swallowed. “So his execution—”
“Was irrelevant to them,” Arwen said. “It neither hindered nor helped their plans. Kael was never a player. He was a discarded instrument.”
Matthew’s voice dropped. “And Elara?”
Arwen’s eyes hardened. “Is the constant variable.”
They moved to the stone table, the weight of it pressing down on them both.
“So the silence,” Matthew said. “It isn’t retreat.”
“No,” Arwen replied. “It’s recalibration.”
“They won’t come for her now?”
“Not yet,” she said. “The Nosferu don’t rush assets they intend to keep. And the rogues won’t dare breach the Lycan king’s territory without certainty.”
Matthew exhaled shakily. “So Kael was an experiment.”
“Yes,” Arwen said. “A failed one.”
At the mention of Kael’s name again, Matthew’s face darkened. He looked away. “What the vampires did to him…” His voice trailed off.
“I know,” Arwen said softly. “And I understand your concern. But right now, Ronan needs stability. Strength. Not fear whispered in his ear every hour.”
Matthew exhaled and motioned to one of the attendants. “Coffee.”
The servant poured for them both. Arwen lifted her cup, inhaled the steam, then glanced at Matthew over the rim.
“You are like a second son to me,” she said. “And I trust you with Ronan’s life. But there are moments when you must not indulge him.”
Matthew gave a short, humorless laugh. “Indulge him? Your Highness, he’s impossible. He'd probably left the bathroom ten times in five seconds already.”
Arwen raised a brow.
“Just to check if Elara was still in bed,” Matthew added. “Still breathing. Still… there.”
She said nothing.
“I don’t blame him,” Matthew continued more quietly. “She was tortured. And he felt every second of it. Ever since he was a child, ever since their bond formed, he’s never been free of her pain.”
Arwen’s grip tightened slightly around her cup. “And that is precisely why he must not lose himself now.”
Before Matthew could respond, the air shifted.
It wasn’t subtle.
A sudden pressure slammed through the garden, heavy and suffocating, like the world itself had drawn in a breath and refused to let it go. The stone beneath their feet vibrated. Birds burst from the trees in a frenzy of wings.
Matthew’s head snapped toward the palace.
Arwen didn’t move but her eyes sharpened.
Then Ronan’s voice tore through the walls.
“WHERE IS MY MATE?!”